


hesitation is not my game

by furyspook



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:59:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furyspook/pseuds/furyspook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean didn't know Reiner Braun personally, but it was hard not to know of him.<br/>_<br/>In which Jean thinks that Reiner is hot, and he's really not afraid to tell him so.<br/>_<br/>Tags, ratings, etc. could probably all be subject to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. do you think i drink too much?

Parties like this, they weren't very fun.

Jean had been to a good handful of parties over the years, and when they got too huge and too crowded it seemed that there was just _no room_ for fun. He hadn't turned down the opportunity to socialize only because he figured there would be legitimate socializing involved, instead of half-screaming and music too loud to hear himself think over.

In spite of this, he stuck around. Something was bound to happen eventually, and when it did Jean wanted to be a witness. He'd learned the hard way that rumors weren't the best for gathering information, and he would much rather be in on the action himself than hearing second-hand what Ashley did to her boyfriend this time, or how long it took for the neighbors to call the police. Maybe... maybe he _could_ do without the first-hand experience of police-issued drug tests and phone calls home. Jean took a sip from his cup, casting a glance over his shoulder in search of Armin. The shorter had been lost in the crowd going on thirty minutes prior (probably taken by that Eren or another of their more social friends). Perhaps he was caught in an awkwardly-drunk conversation in another room, as Jean hadn't caught a glimpse of him since he disappeared.

No matter, Armin wasn't really his concern. Even bored out of his mind without somebody to complain to (as Marco had declined his invitation and Mikasa wouldn't answer her phone from seven til ten), Jean wasn't one to leave a party so early. He was hardly buzzed yet, anyway, and supposed it was the brew. Maybe it'd been diluted to keep them all road-safe, which was a good idea only in theory. 

"Jean!" The blond turned his head to look for his friend, Armin's voice carrying over the heads of other more obnoxious party-goers. An arm appeared between a bright blue halter top and a wrinkled t-shirt. "Jean! You haven't moved!" When Armin was finally free of the crowd, he leaned heavily against the fireplace. The small brick step up from the carpeted floor provided more personal space than anywhere else in the living room, and Jean was taking advantage. 

"Why d'you sound so surprised when you know I don't like this crowd?" Jean asked, though he needed to speak more loudly than he had to. A girl to his immediate right shot an almost offended glance over her shoulder. Jean had never seen her before in his life. Parties were funny like that. 

Armin shrugged, rocking his weight from foot to foot with the music, and without noticing he was doing it at all. "I expected you could find somebody you know. Don't you know that Mina girl? The one with the dark hair, she's here in the dining room. At least, the last time I saw her." It wasn't with concern that Armin suggested Jean socialize, it was just curiosity. Jean wasn't normally the one standing against the wall in these situations. He was normally at the head of the crowd, though his momentary popularity was questionable each time. "If you lose me again, I guess you could always find her. Where she is, there's Annie, too." 

Jean's mouth pulled into a flat line, thoughtful. "I dunno, she didn't seem t'like me every _other_ time I tried talkin' to her." Slowly, Armin nodded his agreement. 

"No, you're really not her favorite person." Jean laughed, and Armin cracked a smile himself. 

"I could always find somebody, Armin, y'know I _do_ have friends." If not, Jean was confident in his ability to _make_ friends. Get a little alcohol into somebody's system, and they might even call themselves your best friend before two minutes were up. It would be easy to find somebody to talk to, but nobody caught Jean's eye who wasn't already with somebody else. One-on-one was always less nerve-wracking than speaking to multiple people. 

"If you really needed somebody, Eren's moping around in the kitchen because Dan put a lock on the fridge for the party." Right. This was _Dan_ 's party. Well, Jean knew it started with a 'd'. He wasn't invited directly-- didn't even know who Dan was supposed to be --but he did know that anybody who could make Eren Yeager pout was a friend of his. 

"Nah, I'm okay." The less time he had to spend with the devil, the better. Eren had a temper on him when he _wasn't_  drunk and hungry. "Y'might wanna go see if Eren needs anythin', though, 'cause we don't want 'im to pull anythin' _you'll_ regret later." Armin only shook his head. Eren was a big boy, he could take care of himself. If he didn't, his sister would have his ass later. 

"Say," Jean began after a moment of _heavy contemplation_ , "D'you think I could pull of crowd surfing from here?" 

Before Armin could respond, Jean's attention was caught by a _tank_ of a man entering from the kitchen-side door. He couldn't have been more than eighteen-- parties like this weren't exactly something to which you'd invite your parents --but he was _huge_  anyhow. There wasn't much doubt who it was, Jean had heard to stories and seen him about the halls of school. Reiner Braun; the football team's star player and everyone's favorite topic of conversation Thursday afternoons. Jean himself had had the pleasure of seeing Reiner in action a couple of times, and he was a _monster_. Brown eyes scrolled with interest over the visible contours of Reiner's face, picking apart everything that could even be counted as _related_ to a flaw. 

"I don't think that you could do that in here, Jean, we're not high enough off of the ground. If you want to try, be my guest." Armin answered, and though it sounded delayed the boy hadn't missed a beat. "I'm sure there'd be people here willing to try." 

Jean wasn't interested in crowd surfing anymore, instead ridding himself of boredom in the most interesting way he could. 

"Y'know, I bet that guy's good in bed. What d'you think?" Jean asked, cocking his head to one side and turning his eyes back onto Armin. The shorter returned the questioning stare, not entirely sure where this had come from. "The big one. That's Reiner, isn't it?" Jean tipped up his chin as if to point, and Armin followed his gaze to the newcomer. 

"Oh, yeah. That's Reiner, but I'm not sure you're his type, Jean." He meant it as more of a joke, but Jean Kirschtein wasn't made for jokes. He was made for challenges. 

"Y'think?" Jean set his cup down on the mantel, returning his focus to Braun. _On second thought,_ Jean took his cup again into his hand, _I might need this_. Armin looked as if he was going to warn Jean away from this move-- it would embarrass him, if nothing else, come Monday --but he said nothing. Jean stepped off of the fireplace, weaving his way between people dancing and chatting in roughly two feet of space. Soon, he found himself exactly where he wanted to be. 

Reiner didn't turn to him, first. Jean cleared his throat, expecting some sort of reaction, but a whole lot of _nothing_ was all he got in return. Another cough, less subtle and much louder. Reiner (and an uninteresting two friends of his) turned confused eyes onto Jean. Jean, who _finally_ found his reason for staying at this party, grinned up at the taller. He paid no attention to Reiner's friends, who in turn removed their attentions from him. 

"I don't think we've met." Jean held his free hand, perhaps closer to Reiner's chest than it was meant to be. "Jean Kirschtein. Dunno how I haven't introduced myself t'you sooner." 

It seemed Reiner was friendly, taking Jean's hand immediately in the both of his and latching on like a vice. The handshake was snug, but it wasn't a deterrent. Jean continued with none-too-subtle compliments on Reiner's football games, things like "I saw that pass, and _damn_ , you've got arms on you!" Eventually, realizing that it wasn't going to stop, Reiner's friends turned and wandered off into the dining room. 

Jean was shameless when he wanted something, and tonight he wanted to see whether or not somebody like Reiner was out of his league. With quips in response to his own hints, Jean really felt he was getting somewhere. Armin could suck it, Jean was getting laid tonight. For near an hour Jean talked up the school's golden boy, drinking and sucking up the attention like he couldn't get enough. He found excuses to make himself look good, opened doors and exaggerated just a bit his own achievements while they circuited the ground floor of Dan's house. Reiner never seemed bored or uncomfortable, and Jean was equally interested in what the other had to say. It was a two-way street, after all. 

Still deep in conversation, Jean hissed a curse under his breath when he felt a pull on his sleeve. Armin had a hold of his elbow, and tipped his head towards the clock as though that justified his interruption somehow. Jean shook his head, gesturing to the target before himself and clumsily pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. "Armin, it's only, like-- _whoa_ ,"Eleven-thirty already, and Jean hadn't even asked yet. 

"Jean, it's ' _only, like_ ' time to go." Armin was sarcastic when he was tired, and Jean knew it was for the best they get going before his parents got home and noticed that he wasn't there. They had warned him about partying and responsibility before, so Armin driving him home just a little late wasn't going to be a problem, but he didn't want to keep the other out for too long. There was another tug on his arm, and Jean forced himself to turn away from Reiner and back towards his friend. 

"Alright, alright, hold on a sec-- wait!" Jean pulled his arm away and Reiner threw a hand up to his shoulder to steady his new friend. "A pen... a pen... Armin! You got a pen?" Armin, as it happened, did not have a pen, and it took a while for them to find someone who _did_. Ten minutes or so were spent asking, or at least _trying_ to ask, everyone within earshot at the time. Finally, after acquiring a pen from one of the more studious partygoers, Jean took Reiner's hand in both of his and spread his fingers until his palm was held flat. His handwriting was no better than scribbles, but he was sure the numbers could be made out when read by somebody whose vision wasn't swimming quite so badly. 

"'Right, there y'go." Jean pressed the pen into his hand, and Reiner was unsure what to do with it afterwards. It wasn't his pen. It wasn't even the pen of anybody he _knew_. 

"What is it?" Though it should have been obvious. 

"It's my number." Jean explained, looking quite pleased with himself as Armin stood by more than a little pissed that this was taking so long. He had something to do in the morning, Jean wasn't sure exactly what. "Don' lose that, don't give it away." He waved an arm, ready to dismiss Reiner now that he was ready to go. He'd have other chances. Jean followed after Armin, didn't wait for a goodbye, and left Reiner behind in the living room. 

The car ride home was uneventful, Armin asking few questions and Jean unwilling to offer any comments. He was mulling over his conversation, how pleasant it was and how he would very much want to do it again. 

The following morning, Jean couldn't even bring himself to be upset that he was in his own bed and mark-free. 

Too tired, probably. 


	2. you're hard to ignore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jean waits for a call

Jean spotted Reiner in the hall on Monday morning, just above the heads of a couple of band kids he wasn’t exactly familiar with (meaning that he knew them, but he didn’t know their names). There was a moment where he could have sworn his heart fluttered, but that could have been anything. Honestly, it was probably gas. He fiddled with his keys deep in the pocket of his jeans and watched the footballer converse with his teammates and a handful of other acquaintances. Not three days ago Jean had spoken as easily to this, the mark. He wondered if, without the influence of alcohol, he would be able to do it again. It _would_ be nice. Even though he hadn’t obtained his objective, Jean felt that they really hit it off on Friday, and that with just a _bit_ more pushing, he could do it. Reiner’s head turned and he caught Jean watching, waved. Jean nodded back as nonchalantly as he could. It would really suck if Reiner hadn’t caught on to the fact that he’d been propositioned.

Still, it could only leave him room to improve.

Jean saw Reiner again between third and fourth period, winked at the taller blond over the end of his sleeve before a rather awkward and un-sexy sneeze. Reiner was startled for a minute, but a look of shock was quickly followed by a laugh. Though Jean couldn’t hear it, he could remember it from the night of the party. While embarrassed, he couldn’t help but be the tiniest bit glad that he could be the cause of such a wonderful sound.

And again outside of the cafeteria that afternoon. The footballer could not have been easier to spot, and easier to discreetly follow down the lunch line with his eyes. When Reiner turned from the line, tray in hand, Jean ducked his head. Once he’d safely passed, Jean continued his observation. Reiner's profile was really something of a marvel.

Classes passed- for the most part -as usual, though throughout the day Jean would spot Reiner in the halls or in the courtyard, recovering a textbook or passing a note, and he would find himself chuckling for no discernible reason. It was just very hard to look away once he'd started watching, and Reiner had such interesting behaviors (interesting in that they were often ridiculous in their attempts to look cool). There were occasions where Reiner would glance over his shoulder and spot Jean looking at him. He'd wave or smile, and Jean would get that strange feeling again-- ' _the butterflies_ '. Through his new-found fascination with the other, Jean was beginning to notice little quirks he never would have before, and they were each individually endearing in a way he just couldn't put his finger on. 

"Hey, Marco," Jean began, a little after ninth period and the school's final bell, "What do you think about that guy Reiner?" 

"By that, do you mean the one you've been making googly-eyes at all day?" His friend returned, turning to shoot Jean a smirk which made it _very clear_  that Marco knew _exactly_ who Jean was talking about without confirmation. By ways of retort, the blond knocking his knuckles against the back of Marco's head. 

"Shut up an' answer the question, Bodt! I wanna know." 

When Jean's face turned sour the other's smile softened and he slowed his pace to match step. "I don't know him very well, honestly. From what I've heard, he's pretty cool." 

"Well, I already knew that." Jean's expression remained a scowl. "Figured you might know somethin', havin' an in with the cheer leaders an' all." 

"It's not like they're that close to the guys on the football team, Jean." Marco laughed slinging an arm over his friend's shoulder and pulling him closer. Their knees knocked as they walked to Marco's car. "You could always just... _talk to him_. Directly, and I mean not from behind your sleeve or a floor up on the stairwell." Nobody would be mistaken in pointing out the light pink dusting on Jean's cheeks, though they would be told off. The stairwell may have been a mistake, but only because his bag had slipped from his shoulders and smacked into the person on the stairs behind him, who'd nearly fallen and decided to rip Jean a new one about how 'the correct way to have a conversation is when standing next to the person you're trying to talk to, and not from a floor above'. Reiner had, of course, gotten a laugh out of it, but Jean was too busy trying to escape the rigid clutch of _logic_. 

"Dunno if I can talk to somebody like him 'f I'm not drunk, Marco. How nervous d'you think I'd get 'f I said the wrong thing... an' I was completely sober?" His follow up being several vague hand gestures, Jean didn't make close to a decent argument. Marco was unimpressed. 

Taking his arm back, "Jean, don't make shitty excuses. If you want to talk to this guy, you're going to need to buck up. Now get in the car." 

The drive to Jean's house wasn't long, and they parted ways at the end of his driveway. Marco added before Jean shut the passenger-side door that if he needed any more relationship advice-- as in, if he got far enough to _really_ _need_ relationship advice --he could call Marco up any time that wasn't earlier than three in the morning. 

Focusing on homework after this day, after that conversation he'd had with Marco, was difficult for Jean. He rolled his pencil between forefinger and thumb, watching it spin out of his reach over the looseleaf of his binder and leave thin scratches of graphite frustration in its wake. He _could_ just try to talk to Reiner, but how successful could he possibly be? The guy hadn't so much as texted him all weekend, and while he seemed interested at the party that could have been any number of factors influencing his behavior. Alcohol, for one. 

It was late that night, between eleven and midnight, that Jean's phone buzzed on the desk across the room. He blinked his eyes open, taking in the half-darkness of his room while light spilled in through the window and the streetlamp beyond. He thought momentarily to ask himself who could have been texting him at this hour, but it didn't seem a reasonable question when he remembered that he was in _high school_ and not the fifth grade. He crossed the room. 

                                        **[INBOX: XXX-XXX-XXXX]** me and the guys are getting pizza tomorrow after practice. want to come? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao look who updated finally haha its only been like three months or something  
> its not that long but hey
> 
> hows it been going guys i hope you like, forgot about tracking this story so that when you saw it updated you had that little flash of 'omg omg omg i forgot this was a thing and now im super happy it updated wowwie' 
> 
> continue to comment and stuff i wanna hear from you! !! \\\\(ó㉨ò) //

**Author's Note:**

> LONG ESTABLISHMENT CHAPTER [END]
> 
> Alrighty, can I just say that I think I *might actually finish this fic* eventually! I've got most of it planned out, just not so much dialogue and little details. I can figure that out as I go along, but d'you know what encourages? Comments, sure as hell. 
> 
> Tell me what you think 'cause I really wanna know!  
> I mean, 's'not like I'll stop if you say you don't like it but I'd like to know anyhow, y'dig?


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